Like one who has traveled distant oceans
am I among those who are forever at home.
The crowded days are spread across their tables,
but to me the far-off holds more life.
Behind my face stretches a world
no more lived in, perhaps, than the moon.
But the others leave no feeling alone
and all their words are inhabited.
The things I brought back with me
seem strange here and out of place.
In their own land they moved like animals,
but here they hold their breath in shame.
— Rilke, Book of Images